


Red Carpet Rescue Mission

by darter_blue



Series: Cute Bucky Barnes Bingo fills [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Awkward Flirting, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Captain America Steve Rogers/Modern Bucky Barnes, Explicit Sexual Content, First Kiss, Fluff, Gardens & Gardening, Human Disaster Bucky Barnes, M/M, Meet-Cute, Modern Bucky Barnes, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Rimming, Romance, Shrunkyclunks, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-06-27
Packaged: 2021-03-03 10:54:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24349861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darter_blue/pseuds/darter_blue
Summary: Bucky Barnes can totally do this, he can fumble his way through a red carpet event and not lose his brand new nationally televised lifestyle presenter gig... he just has to remember to ask questions about the premier and NOT composting (being that he is, in fact, a Gardener and not an entertainment reporter).And when he sees a fellow sufferer in need of saving from all the lights, cameras, and hubbub, of course he's going to sidle over and be a friendly face.Except the poor, unfashionable gentleman perhaps isn't a ring in like Bucky imagined, is perhaps more famous than he looks?Is perhaps actually a real life superhero?This is just fluff and more fluff of disaster Bucky and an always charmed Captain America...For my Bucky Barnes Bingo square: B3/ Rescue Mission
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Series: Cute Bucky Barnes Bingo fills [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1758007
Comments: 138
Kudos: 685
Collections: Bucky Barnes Bingo 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi folks,
> 
> Just in case you, like me, are in the mood for adorable stucky shenanigans, I present this little bit of fun, based on the cutest anecdote I've heard in forever:  
> [Irish presenter, Angela Scanlon, doesn't recognise Steven Spielberg at the BAFTA's](https://youtu.be/o2dUs6Dpa98)

Okay, to be fair... Bucky is not an entertainment reporter, he is here by complete accident. 

Actually his entire job is sort of half happy coincidence, half bullshit luck. It’s true, he may have fudged a few things on his resume, but he _did_ have a successful vlog (about creating rooftop gardens, which totally counts) and he had a small but dedicated following as 'Bucky the Gardening Guy' for his weekly ten minute segment on a HGTV lifestyle show. 

And when he’d interviewed for this new show (National, and airing at a time when people were actually _awake_ ), he might have accidentally spilled his very hot (complimentary) coffee right down the front of his best white shirt, which he’d then had to remove - lest it burn him, Maria (his interviewer) had insisted. And somehow he’d still gotten the job...

And he's been here, on this national show, with this cast and crew - who are serious business enough to get _craft services_ \- for weeks now. Two, actually, to be exact. And poor Clint, who normally does their celeb interviews and red carpet specials, has been unfortunately waylaid at Heathrow airport because of some crazy weather and isn’t going to make it back in time. 

Cue: Maria grabbing Bucky by the elbow and forcing him into wardrobe (a step up from his old store room with some sports Jackets and a sad collection of tie’s, these guys have SUITS) because he was, “the prettiest face we have for television, do your best kid,” and his standing here now, on said red carpet, waiting for the A-List celebs to walk past so he can grab them for an interview. 

He looks the part at least, in his soft blue suit, his long hair in a top knot, artfully maintained stubble (before his television career, this was just lazy, now it’s a _look_ ) though by the doubt on his face, his camera guy doesn’t hold a lot of faith in his ability to do this at _all._ And Bucky can't blame him, (see aforementioned lack of credentials) but he’s going to do his best. Which means just getting out there and asking someone _something_. If he doesn’t, they’re going to have a lot of unusable footage and Bucky can probably kiss the contract for his new hour long lifestyle and entertainment program goodbye.

He’s looking out into the flurried crowd of beautiful people and okay, there’s a face Bucky knows. Ryan Reynolds. Or Gosling? It's a Ryan, a famous one, okay he's doing it. 

'Ryan,' God, he hopes it's Ryan, 'Hey, congratulations on the film!' Bucky calls, stepping up into (please be) Ryan (something, something)'s personal space and holding the microphone in an approximation of the way he'd watched Clint do it in last week's segment.

'Uh, thank you?'

'How excited are you to be here at the premiere finally?' Because all that Bucky really knows about this film is that it's been in post production for a suspicious number of months, it uses some amazingly cutting edge filming technology… and contains very little gardening.

'Well, yeah, I mean, Blake's been super excited for people to see this, it was a real labour of love,'

Blake? His co-star? Does he have a co-star? This was a war movie right? A romance? He doesn't remember it being a gay romance, if it was he would have paid more attention.

'And Blake is here tonight?' Bucky asks, maybe he can get two-for-one interviews…

'Yeah, she's here,' Ryan answers, looking a little confused. Maybe slightly worried, 'Cause, you know, I'm just her plus one tonight.'

'Right, right, well… you... make a very handsome accessory,' Bucky stammers, because, true, and also, he's panicking. And when a gorgeous blonde woman in green sidles up to Ryan (it must be Gosling… he's the one from Deadpool, right?) Bucky remembers her from the movie poster and of course Blake _Lively (_ Lively _? Lovely_? Is she dating Ryan Gosling? Christ alive, Bucky is bad at this) is the star, World War Two nurse, and her co-star is a brunette… Bucky will remember him when he sees him, surely.

'Oh, Blake, congratulations on the film!' Bucky rushes to say and Ryan (awkward cough) laughs a punched huff or air. 'Nurses are absolutely underrated as frontline fighters, are you super proud to be out here representing such a brave occupation?'

'Oh my god, yes!' Blake replies warmly, 'I'm so proud of this movie, of being able to really highlight how imperative Nurses were during the war, putting their lives in the line and getting almost no credit. This is probably the most proud I've ever been of a role.'

Bucky's camera guy, Scott, gives him the thumbs up - great sign - but before he can get a follow up question Blake and Ryan are moving on.

'Okay, thank you, Bye!' he calls out to their retreating backs. 

'Psst, Bucky,' Scott hisses at him before he can get to the next celeb, 'You need to introduce yourself and the network next time,'

'Shit, fuck-' Scott cuts him off with a frantic chopping motion, oops no swearing, 'Right, right, right. Okay, next, this isn't so hard.' That's a lie.

Bucky fluffs his way through three more so-so interviews ('Jesus, Bucky,' Scott is barely whispering, shaking his head in exasperation, 'Even my six year old daughter knows who _Steven Spielberg_ is') before hitting the jackpot - Tony Stark.

'Mister Stark!' Bucky calls, rushing over to get in his way (a little, he still isn't comfortable really pouncing on anyone). 'Bucky from NBNC, how excited are you to see your new nano-cam technology being used to film action sequences like this?' Yeah, okay, Bucky was sort of a whore for gadgets. It had been the most interesting thing in the packet (and consequently all that Bucky remembered of it).

'Well, hello there, Bucky - weird name by the way - how excited was I? More interesting question, how excited _could_ I be... given the right motivation?'

'Ah… about your nano-cam tech?'

'Oh no, that was totally a pick up line,'

'Umm, I… what?'

‘Me, you, some handcuffs… I could get excited about that.’

‘Umm,’ Bucky can feel his blush creeping up to his eyeballs, ‘I don't…’ he is actually lost for words.

'You know what? Rescinded. You might be a little too wholesome for me. Thanks for the enthusiasm, kid, but I'm actually looking for someone, excuse me, gotta go.'

Tony Stark leaves Bucky standing with what's sure to be a deer in headlights look… he can't actually see himself. But Scott has his whole face in the palm of his hand, which is a bad sign. And really, Bucky is not cut out for this. 

'Hey, Bucky, how about I get some red carpet footage and we can do voice overs in a sound edit tomorrow?'

'Really?'

'Yeah, take five, man, then try and jump back in with some of the stragglers.' Scott pats him on the shoulder with his free hand. 

'Yeah, thanks, Scott,' Bucky almost cries. Because, while he could really use a beer, five minutes to just _breathe_ would also be very helpful.

'And don't forget you're mic'd up in case anything exciting happens,' Scott points to his lapel mic. Bucky just nods and waves as he disappears into the crowd. 

He briefly wonders how bad it would be, career wise, to just leave for his bed right now, but spots a man, a slightly out of place, badly dressed but adorably overwhelmed looking man standing slightly off the junket walk of the carpet.

The poor guy probably just needs a friendly face amidst all the chaos. And it seems like a good place to take a breather anyway. So Bucky starts to make his way over.

And begins to slightly re-evaluate the situation the closer he gets… because that is a tightly maintained ass hidden in those outdated chinos. And the face that turns to Bucky as he meanders over, super non threateningly, is _quite a face_ now that it's turned around. 

'Hello!' Bucky says, smiling his best friendly smile (it's a good one, actually. He's been practising in the mirror), standing close enough to chat but not getting in his face.

'Hi,' the guy returns the greeting, frown abating a little, but far from smiling. His arms are folded over his chest (and ah… that’s an impressive chest…), it’s not overly inviting body language that’s for sure.

'This is my first time,' Bucky says, trying to seem as howdy-ho-neighbourly as possible so as not to spook the guy, 'How are you doing? Excited to see the film?' Because bless the poor boy, but as beautiful as he is, he does not look happy to be here. Maybe one of the star's family? Someone brought their brother as a plus one? 

'Er, yes and no,' the man replies and oh... his voice is rich like butter. Wow.

Okay.

'It's meant to be lovely, if not a little, well, apparently the combat sequences are very realistic,' one of his interviewees had said that, and it sounded knowledgeable, so Bucky is stealing it. 'Do you… are you here with… someone?'

Oh god. Now it just sounds like Bucky is hitting on him. Jeez, abort Bucky, abort. You're supposed to be making him feel more comfortable, not creeped on. 

'Or like… are you…' Bucky stutters. What is he even trying to say? 'Sorry, oh my gosh I'm such a disaster.' Bucky is ready for the ground to open up and swallow him now - don't let him down, ground - except this more than anything has got a smile out of his compatriot.

'It's okay,' the guys says, and fucking hell, his smile is… those cheekbones… oh god. 'I don't know where the others are. I'm not hiding from them, or anything.' And he looks a bit stricken by that, like someone would judge him too harshly for hiding from whoever has dragged him to a premier he clearly doesn't want to be at.

'Oh, that's okay, geez, I'm clearly not averse to hiding myself,' Bucky gestures back at the crowd, highlighting the distance he’s put between it and himself, and smiles with a shrug.

'You mentioned you're new at this,' the guy says, relaxing his posture a little, dropping his hands to his pockets, 'Must be a bit nerve wracking.'

‘Oh well…’ Bucky lowers his voice a little, letting his new friend in on a secret, ‘I mean, if this was a movie about landscape architecture, I would be fine.’

His new friend chuckles at Bucky’s admission, and it’s such a nice sound, he’s determined to hear it again.

‘It’s true, if only I could talk to these celebs about composting-’ the chuckle continues - ‘Chicken rearing, maybe?’ Bucky is leaning into the guy’s space a little, conspiratorially, ‘I can talk about the benefits of keeping your own worm farm for hours, but trying to figure out how to make impossibly beautiful people seem interesting? That’s way outside my area of expertise.’

‘I’d be more inclined to believe you,’ the guy says, leaning himself into Bucky, mirroring Bucky’s body language, ‘If you didn’t look just as impossibly good.’

‘Ha!’ Oh, that takes Bucky by surprise, ‘What, this?’ he runs a hand down the front of his pale blue jacket - no button down, only his own white t-shirt sits underneath because Maria said it worked - and fights his blush, ‘Well, this is just the benefit of having a wardrobe department.’

‘I admit it's a great colour, but I wasn’t really talking about the suit.’ The guy leans in a little closer and Bucky’s mouth feels suddenly dry. He looks like he’s about to say something more but sort of freezes then looks over Bucky’s shoulder. 'Is that man with you?' he asks, and Bucky is thrown by the non sequitur. He looks over and finds Scott coming over with his camera, looking like he just swallowed a frog.

'Ah, oh, yeah, he probably needs me to get back to work.' He goes to turn back to Scott, fighting his unprofessional hesitance to leave. ‘I should really get some interviews before Scott has a coronary.’

'You don't… you're not interviewing me?' the guy asks. And Bucky missteps, looks back at the guy.

Has he… is this _not_ someone's ring in cousin? 

'Umm, I… yes? I… should I be?'

And okay, he's laughing. The guy is now laughing at Bucky. 

'Oh no, don't look like that,' the guy says, holding out a hand, palm out, in Bucky's direction, 'I didn't mean to laugh, I'm sorry, I just…' 

Bucky is looking back at Scott and Scott is staring at both Bucky and the man with wider eyes than Bucky realised a person's eyes could even widen. 

'People normally recognise me.'

Bucky looks back at Scott, who must have recognised the guy, and if the colour of his face is anything to go by, the guy is sure _someone_. Then he looks back and decides, well, the hell with it, and just shrugs his shoulders at the guy. He has nothing left to lose at this point. 

Oh, his job perhaps. But otherwise, he's hit the bottom, and it's all rock here.

'Steve! Cap, come on old man, the movie's about to start,' shouts a voice, gaining on them. Tony Stark, back again. 'Oh you found the cute media guy!'

Steve, if that's his name, looks like he's biting back some choice words. 

Bucky is reeling a little. Cap… that seems familiar. Like. Who does Bucky know that's chummy with Stark and would be at a World War Two movie premier. Who, now that Bucky really thinks about it, was mentioned in the packet as being an adviser for the action sequences that Bucky was recently gushing to him about… 

Steve Rogers.

Captain America.

Oh shit.

Bucky is pretty sure all the blood has just drained from his face. Or rushed to his head...

'Woah, woah, woah,' Steve Rogers, _Captain_ _America_ , suddenly has his hands under Bucky's elbows and is holding him steady. 'Its okay, you're okay. It's nice, not to be recognised.'

'Oh no, I'm for sure going to get fired,' Bucky says, looking up at Steve Rogers and swallowing. He can see Scott nodding his head in his periphery. 

'The fresh face on this kid,' Tony Stark is saying, 'Totally ignores my flirting, doesn't recognise Captain America, I think you might be in the wrong business Buddy.'

'It's Bucky,' Bucky says automatically, and then cringes.

'It’s a colloquialism, kiddo, I don't care what your _name_ is.'

'Tony!' 

Bucky is wondering how hard he has to think, before he can magic himself invisible and teleport back in time. To before today. So he can tell Maria to find somebody else. So he can pretend this never happened.

'Bucky, is it?' Captain America is asking, and Bucky just nods. 'Great name-'

Tony Stark snorts indelicately.

'- I don't think you're gonna lose your job, Son,' 

(Oh boy, does that send a shiver down Bucky's spine)

'Especially not if I offer an exclusive interview about my experiences on the movie set… right?' He looks over at Tony and then Scott (who hasn't stopped filming by the way) both of whom look back at the poor man like he's lost his mind.

But Bucky is smiling (it _feels_ like he's smiling), because, what? Did he just get offered his first exclusive interview? With a national icon (Bucky's pretty sure the guy's a bonafide superhero, even _he_ caught some of the Avengers footage on the news from that fight in Budapest)?

Bucky licks his lips and searches Steve's eyes for anything untoward. But the offer seems totally genuine.

'That would be wonderful,' he says carefully, still wary of the other shoe dropping.

'Great, great, like now?' Scott says, seemingly over his shell-shock and eager to film something meaningful.

'Umm, guys, the premiere…?' Stark is trying to nudge them into forward momentum via ESP.

'Sure now is fine,’ Steve agrees, ‘And then tomorrow maybe we could get some coffee?' Steve is still holding Bucky by the elbows, close enough that Bucky can feel his breath as he exhales (carrying the faint scent of peppermint).

'Um right… sure… like a post interview debrief.'

'Good lord,' Stark says, vigorously rolling his eyes.

'Am I coming? I should come too, shouldn't I, why not do it right after the interview?' Scott is asking, camera still perfectly framed. His eyebrow is raised and Bucky can't tell if he's fanboying over Captain America or worried for Bucky's safety.

'Oh, no. No, sorry, what was your name?' Steve asks.

'Scott Lang,' Scott answers, staring a little awkwardly at Steve.

'Scott, you'll need to film the rest of the red carpet won't you? Get the footage back to someone for editing?'

Scott is nodding slowly, careful not to jostle the camera but also like he’s wary of how Steve seems to know so much about the filming process. 

‘So just you and me?’ Bucky asks, feeling like he’s losing track of reality, a little bit. Steve is so close, and so warm, and his arms are really quite big. His shoulders are sort of ridiculous actually, how did Bucky not notice that before? And oh. Steve is giving him a look. 

'It's just coffee, Bucky, and you are under absolutely no obligation,' Steve says, earnest to his core, 'I'm giving you the interview regardless.'

'How bout Scott stands here with me, Bucky stands with the good Captain there asks some questions, and we move this the fuck along,' Stark says jovially, stepping over to Scott and into frame, 'C'mon dude, three's a crowd.' He winks back at Bucky. Honestly winks. And it's Steve's turn to roll his eyes. 

'Umm…' Bucky is flailing a bit. Is he about to interview a superhero he didn't even recognise? A very unfashionable superhero Bucky mistook for a starry eyed celebrity family member? Should he pinch himself right now?

'Why me?' Bucky blurts, and wishes he could take it back. The ability to play it cool seems to have abandoned him.

'You're the only person tonight, in a long time actually, who's just come up to speak to me, no ulterior motive, no end game, just wanting to make me feel comfortable.'

'Oh god.'

'No, it's lovely. It's… charming.' 

And how is Bucky supposed to resist that smile? Those eyes? He's powerless against them. He lifts his mic and takes a half step back from Steve, tries to remember how to be a professional (why start now? His brain is saying) and not embarrass himself. 

'Well, I guess… Um, Good evening, Steve. Can I call you Steve?'

'I'd like that, Bucky.'

'Great,’ Bucky says, a little too breathlessly, clears his throat to try and reach a serious tone, ‘So you were kinda instrumental in the design and coordination of the battle sequences, would that be fair to say?'

‘It would, I was,’ Steve answers, and god, that voice is making it hard for Bucky to concentrate.

‘Can I ask why you decided to take on a project like this?’

‘Well,’ Steve starts, and Bucky can hear him speaking, knows he’s saying something about Nurses and their role in the War, their efforts being recognised, how Nurses were largely overlooked during any of the promotional material he himself was involved in during the War (just a reminder to Bucky that this man is an actual real life superhero). All things that are very serious and very inspirational. Except all Bucky can focus on is the way the rich dark timber of Steve's voice seems to wrap around him like a warm blanket. And that he has to come up with another question. And that he shouldn’t just stare into Steve’s extremely blue eyes like he’s about to dive into them. 

Okay, silence, that means it’s Bucky’s turn to speak again already.

‘So um, Steve, how was it actually re-living these fight scenes while film-making? I’ve heard more than one person tonight comment on their realism.’ Bucky swallows, and judging by the blank face on Tony, the slight shake of Scott’s head and the way Steve is skirting around his answer that was maybe not the right question. Okay. Something fun, something funny…

‘And, ah,-’ oh god, Bucky, think of something that’s not chickens -’Did you get time for any sight seeing at any of the filming locations?’ Phew, okay, good question.

‘Well, I mean, we were mostly filming in studios,’ Steve says, and maybe Bucky should just give up now, ‘But I did get a chance to see the Grand Canyon on one of our weekends off.’

‘Oh, I love the Grand Canyon!’ Bucky says, forgetting he’s supposed to be in an interview, ‘Such a beautiful landscape.’

‘Is that the type of landscape you go for, generally?’ Steve asks, and Bucky can see Tony look at Scott and mouth something about landscapes, but Bucky has eyes only for Steve.

‘I like to keep to native flora if I can,’ Bucky says, aware he has now segwayed into gardening, but Steve seems so innocently interested, and he genuinely has nothing else he knows how to talk about, ‘You know, keep the plants suited to your climate so you don’t have to waste water, you’ve already probably got a lot of the necessary minerals in the soil around your garden…’ Steve is nodding but Scott is frantically telling him to shut up, with a wild look in his eyes, ‘But um, what sort of garden do you have, Steve?’

‘Not much of one at all, I'm afraid, not even pot plants,’

‘Oh that's-’’

‘I mean, you know, there wasn’t a lot of call for Gardens in 1930’s Brooklyn, I just never got used to the idea,’

‘Oh, of course, you wouldn't've. I guess not much has changed really.’

‘You from New York originally, Bucky?’

‘Who me? I, well, yeah, I mean I grew up in Brooklyn myself-’

‘And you’re still in the area?’

‘Yes actually, Park Slope.’

‘And you ah, you live alone or…?’

‘Oh, yeah, I mean, it’s just me and Alpine.’

‘Alpine?’

‘My cat,’ 

Scott is making frantic slashing motions with his hand at his throat. Bucky is aware he has lost control of the interview entirely. He’s also just a bit spellbound by Steve and his voice and his rapid fire questions. He somehow manages to answer more and more about his rooftop garden and the three chickens he has up there and the best way to bulk up your soil with calcium when Steve looks down at his watch and grimaces.

‘I’m so sorry, Bucky, I have to go, but coffee tomorrow, okay? I’ll call you?’

‘Ah… sure?’ Bucky feels a little dizzy. Has it really been thirty minutes? Did he really just waste his whole Captain America exclusive interview talking about gardening? 

‘Okay, well it was so nice to meet you both, Bucky, Scott,’ and as he’s talking, he’s walking backwards and a dangerously fast car is pulling up at the curb, a curb that is now slowly being emptied of all red carpet accoutrements by the attendees. Tony Stark seems to have disappeared without Bucky even noticing him leaving. 

‘Ah…’ Bucky is holding the microphone out to empty space, Scott has let the camera drop from his shoulder for the first time all night, and Steve is climbing gracefully into the car, waving goodbye as the door closes. ‘What just happened?’

‘I’m not sure, Bucky, but whatever that was, it was not an entertainment piece.’

‘Was it bad?’

'Well, at least you both look nice on camera,' he says with a shrug. And yeah. Bucky probably needs to start looking for a new job...

  
  


***

It's the next morning, as Bucky's waking up from a fitful sleep and shuffling into the living room of his one-bedroom apartment, when he realises Maria has already got hold of Scott's footage and cut something together. 

It isn't bad enough that his brain replayed images from the night over and over, obsessed over the fact that he's incapable of asking adult questions that aren't totally boring to normal people, that he is nothing but a human disaster… now he's watching it unravel on national television, shocked to realise his boss has used a mixture of the recorded audio from his and Steve's conversation, the footage of Steve questioning him about living 'alone', and the promise of an "exclusive" to infer, on a _breakfast show_ , that he and Steve are having an affair. 

At least it seems like that's how the hosts have interpreted it, based on the teaser they've been given for tonight's show and the kind of language they're using to describe the two of them. 

Is this his life now? 

Fuck, he has to call Maria, he should try and call Scott, does he need to try and call Steve? Oh god, Steve ‘Captain America’ Rogers is being slandered on National Television because Bucky is the worst entertainment reporter in history...

He's broken from his panicked spiral of what the hell to do next by a rap at the door. 

'Really?' Bucky asks his empty living room 'At eight in the morning?'

And ofcourse he opens the door to none other than Steve Rogers, looking somehow just as hopeless as last night, in jeans and terrible plaid and a ball cap with aviators.

'Steve, hi… are you... in disguise?' Bucky asks, leaning past the door frame to look left and right down his hallway, which is, at eight o'clock on a Sunday morning, unsurprisingly empty.

'Bucky I am _so sorry_ ,' he says, he's twitchy and nervous and Bucky isn't sure what he's sorry for (maybe he's suing the network) but whatever it is, is almost certainly not Steve's fault.

  
  


'Okay, firstly come inside, geez,' he pulls Steve into the apartment and shuts the door behind him, 'Secondly, how do you know where I live? You didn't even get my number last night.' 

'Um… It's in the book?' Steve says, looking very sheepish, to which Bucky assumes he's hoping not to explain how he somehow abused government privilege to stalk him.

'Hmm… alright,' Bucky lets it go because Steve's here, in his living room and, considering he thought he'd never see the man again after yesterday's disaster interview and this morning's defamatory use of their footage, he'll take the win. He ushers him into the apartment with a gentle pull and brushes past him to lean against the back of the couch. 'Then I guess, thirdly,' he says crossing his arms defensively over his chest, 'What are you sorry about?'

'Oh, Bucky, I’ve gotten you into such a mess,' Steve says, moving forward as if to comfort and then backing off when he thinks better of it, 'Our PR person is livid.'

Oh god, they're going to sue him, they're going to charge him with obstruction of justice. He's tarnished a national treasure.

'It's okay, Steve, it's not your fault.' Bucky tries to keep the panic out of his voice, but Steve is really watching him, it's hard to tell if he's successful. 'Once the network has the footage they can do what they like with it, this is pretty much what i signed up for.' It’s the truth. His contract doesn't give him any rights to the footage, which had seemed, at the time, like an acceptable trade off for the chance to reach out to so many people about the joys of gardening. 

He just never imagined that footage could be used so duplicitously.

'It's me who should be sorry,' Bucky says 'I screwed up that interview so badly, Maria had no choice but to cut it to pieces.'

Steve moves forward again at Bucky's admission, 'What are you talking about, that interview was perfect!' 

'I… what?' Bucky is thrown a little by that. Because, huh? 

'Bucky,' Steve says, stepping closer, 'That interview was perfect.'

'But you left…'

'I left because we got called in by the director of Shield, I told you I was gonna call you, we had our date today!'

'You got called in?' Bucky says, a weight lifting in his chest. 'Hang on, did you just say date?'

'We said coffee?' Steve says, sliding his hands into his pockets again, 'Was it not a date?' hunching into his shoulders, 'Did I read that wrong?'

'Oh… oh!' Bucky realises his mistake, 'Oh, no you definitely read it right. I am, I would… yes to dating. You. Specifically.'

'Yeah?' Steve asks, taking another step into Bucky's space.

Bucky nods. 'Are you not mad? About the expose?'

‘I’m not mad? Are you mad? That’s you they’re talking about too you know, Buck.’ And Steve looks so sweet, so concerned, Bucky’s heart does a little flip.

‘I mean, I’m pretty sure the fact they think I could possibly be dating _you_ is the best thing that’s ever happened to my career so…’ And Bucky’s heart does another flip when he sees that he’s made Steve blush.

'Even when horrible breakfast shows like that will insinuate that we're sleeping together?' Steve says, ducking his head. (And looking up at Bucky through those absolutely ridiculous eyelashes.)

'Well I mean, we probably will be eventually, so they're not totally off base,' Bucky says, almost without thinking. Which has Steve snapping his head up.

'Oh we will be?' Steve closes in another step, eyebrow raised.

'I hope so,' Bucky says, swallowing his hesitation and taking his own step towards Steve, realising as Steve looks him up and down that he's still in his sweats and an old threadbare Henley. (No suit to hide behind today.) Though, if the way Steve’s eyes have dilated is any indication, maybe this look is working for him too.

Steve closes the gap between them until they're almost on top of each other. He has to tilt his head a fraction to look up at Steve, but they're fairly similar in height. It's the breadth of him that's so imposing. Impossibly wide shoulders and a chest that could crush Bucky (he might try and test that theory later). It would be intimidating if not for the open look of affection Steve is wearing, directed right at Bucky.

'I'm not interrupting any big plans you had for this morning, am I?' Steve asks, eyebrow still perfectly lifted, eyes shining with mischief.

'Definitely nothing better than this,' which might be the most truthful statement Bucky has ever made.

'Good,' Steve says softly, leaning down to Bucky, stopping a hair's breadth from his lips, 'We don't want to make liar's out of the press now, do we?' 

And before Bucky can respond, Steve is nudging forward and taking his mouth. His arms are snaking under Bucky's Henley and around his bare waist. His nose sliding against Bucky's nose as Bucky reaches up on his toes, angles his face, presses into the length of Steve and deepens the kiss. His tongue gently runs along Steve's tongue, pushing further, tasting more, sliding his hands up the hard ridged planes of Steve's chest, hidden under some truly terrible plaid.

‘This okay?’ Steve asks, voice pitched low and heavy.

Bucky can only nod, he doesn’t want to waste his breath on words, and is rewarded by Steve reaching up to dig a hand into the length of Bucky’s hair, pulling a little, angling him even further so that there’s no room between them...

Which is of course when his phone really starts to ring.

'Do you need to get that?' Steve asks between sucking on Bucky's lower lip and biting into it gently, not moving an inch.

'Nuh uh,' Bucky says, shaking his head a little, not enough to interrupt Steve's mouth, 'They can wait.'

And it doesn't matter much in the end; once Alpine braves coming into the living room, turns her nose up at Steve and ignores her dry food, swipes the phone off the table with a nonchalant paw, and bats it away to locations undiscovered, They get to have their coffee date on the floor of Bucky's kitchen with zero interruptions.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See chapter 2, as requested, a sweet smutty epilogue 
> 
> 😍🔥


	2. ‘how to find out if your boyfriend wants to sleep with you’

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky and Steve are now dating!
> 
> Only, Steve has yet to make much of a move, beyond kissing, which is fine with Bucky. Unless Steve's waiting for something? Or just hasn't gotten over the courting techniques of 1940's America?
> 
> So Bucky just needs to figure out how to find out where they stand... sex wise. 
> 
> If only he wasn't such a disaster (seduction is not, and never will be, Bucky's middle name).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here you go lovelies, as requested (and only *slightly* late) a nice smutty stucky chapter to warm your winter hearts (Or I guess it's summer for half of you, and if so, sorry. You may need air conditioning for this).

Steve Rogers is a man out of time. Literally. The poor guy was plucked up out of his own time by evil personified and unceremoniously dumped here in Bucky's with little to no direction and an unhealthy dose of resignation. 

  
  


Which may account for the extremely gentleman-like behaviour he has been partaking in these past few weeks… Bucky's gardening spot on the new show has gone a bit bananas since the airing of their red carpet shenanigans and the subsequent, incorrectly labelled expose about their "relationship". Which is, funnily enough, now a pretty accurate representation of their "relationship" - bar one glaring inadequacy:

  
  


They have yet to _actually_ sleep together.

  
  


So, though Bucky is getting stopped in the street and asked about anything from how to turn kitchen waste into fertilizer to how hot Captain America's ass is in real life, he has yet to get his hands on it to offer any accurate response (not that he would.)

  
  


Steve seems keen to kiss the life out of Bucky… but that's it so far. And Bucky would really like to change that. If Steve is interested.

Bucky thinks he is… but he'd like to know for sure. He's just not entirely across how to go about doing that.

  
  


So. Bucky, disaster human that he is, decides to start by googling ‘how to find out if your boyfriend wants to sleep with you’.

  
  


He gets some… questionable results.

  
  


Most of which don’t apply to him and Steve at all. Some of which are skeevy as fuck. 

  
  


But some of them have potential.

  
  


For instance: 'You two have already kissed. And it was hot.'

  
  


Check!!! Yes, they have and yes! It was. 

  
  


Or: 'He’s brushed a fallen strand of hair out of your face at least once.' 

  
  


This happened last week. Bucky remembers it well; he can feel the touch of Steve's long, strong fingers still ghosting along his cheek even now. So check!!

  
  


Well, this is going better than Bucky expected. 

  
  


A couple of other items from the list might be easy enough for Bucky to investigate, if he can get Steve alone.

  
  


Right. Step one is inviting Steve round to Bucky’s place for dinner. And Bucky has Steve’s number now, has used it a few times (mostly for texting). It’s still a thrill to use it to call him.

  
  


‘Hello, Steve Rogers speaking,’ Steve answers the phone like this every time. Bucky doesn’t know why he finds this so adorable.

  
  


'Hello, Steve Rogers, this is Bucky Barnes,' Bucky replies, putting a touch of Steve's deep authority into his voice. 

  
  


'Hey, Buck!' Steve sounds happy to hear from him. Another good sign. 

  
  


‘Hey so I was wondering if you’re free this week for dinner?’ Bucky wants to give him options, he knows (yes he does know) that Steve has a pretty crazy job that doesn’t always leave him with an open schedule. 

  
  


‘With you?’ Steve's normally low register is pitched high and bright. He sounds as excited as a kid in a candy store.

  
  


‘Yes, with me,’ Bucky laughs, ‘I was thinking I could cook for you,’ and here is where Bucky starts to get a bit shy, ‘If you want… if you’re free.’

  
  


‘You’re gonna cook for me?’

  
  


‘I mean… yeah. Would you like that?’

  
  


‘I would _love_ that Buck,’ and Steve sounds so genuinely pleased at the invite, Bucky can’t help but smile.

  
  


‘Great,’

  
  


‘Great!’

  
  


‘Umm, so… when would be a good time.’

  
  


‘Oh, oh, yes, anytime, I’m totally free.’

  
  


‘Me too!’ Bucky says stupidly, without thinking.

  
  


‘How about tomorrow.’ And yes. That’s why Bucky needs to think before he speaks. Because now he can't take back that he’s free. Which means he’s got one whole day to plan what he’s going to cook for Steve.

  
  


And how to seduce him (oh god, Bucky is _not_ capable of seduction. He is the _opposite_ of seductive). 

  
  


But yeah, he’s dug himself into a little hole here, and he’s not going to disappoint Steve.

  
  


‘Tomorrow’s perfect,’ he says, and there must be real fondness in his voice because he can practically hear Steve smiling.

  
  


‘Okay, well I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.’

  
  


'Great!' Oh god, Bucky, pick a new word. 'I mean yes, you sure will.' No, that isn't better; that sounds like a caricature of an excited person. 'I'm looking forward to it.'

  
  


'Me too, Buck, I gotta go, though, okay? Bye!'

  
  


And that’s it. Bucky has less than twenty four hours to figure out what to cook his (boyfriend?) that says ‘hey, I’m really interested in having you inside me, if you’re amenable.’

  
  


Maybe he should google if there’s a recipe for that…

  
  


Turns out there isn’t, short of serving himself up on a platter, or answering the door dressed in nothing but saran wrap - neither of which he is prepared to do (at this stage).

  
  


But he does find a nice recipe for roast red pepper pasta sauce. And actually Clint gave him that recipe for homemade pasta from the celebrity chef segment they had two weeks ago which was meant to be amazing. Italian is kinda seductive, right? And if Bucky can pull off homemade pasta, he might overshadow his disaster moniker and actually seem like a competent, fully functioning adult (which would be a lie, a temporary reprieve at best, but only he needs to know that).

  
  


Also Bucky has some pretty spectacular red peppers in the garden, so it feels like kismet.

  
  


Only suddenly, tomorrow has turned into today, and Bucky is filming with the crew on site to do a segment on building permeable landscaping surfaces for reduced rainwater runoff in your garden. Which goes overtime. And he gets back to the apartment with his hastily bought groceries to throw all of the mess from his ridiculously small kitchen into an old, empty composting bin to hide in the hall closet. 

  
  


Then he gets started on the pasta, which is easier than he thought (Clint’s recipe is surprisingly detailed) but it still takes him so long to roll it all out and cut it and hang it up to dry, that Steve has messaged him to say he’s on the way and Bucky is still in his dirty old caterpillar work pants and the ripped t-shirt he was filming in. And he still needs to pick the peppers and roast them. And fuck, yep, Bucky is just as much of a disaster as ever. 

  
  


He messages Steve back to say he’s ducking up to the roof but should be back by the time he arrives.

  
  


Bucky’s still harvesting his biggest peppers when Steve arrives on the roof (how did he even get up there?) and calls out a greeting as he saunters over to Bucky as he drops his last Pepper into the basket.

  
  


‘Hey Buck, what are you doing up here?’

  
  


And Bucky stands up to dust off his hands on his pants, which for some reason stops Steve in his tracks. 

  
  


Bucky must look an absolute mess.

  
  


‘Steve, hey!’ Bucky says, flustered and dirty but unable to help but smile at the sight of Steve in his terrible chinos and the brown leather jacket that Bucky has had one or two inappropriate dreams about. 

  
  


‘Uh…’ Steve for some reason is standing with his mouth open and Bucky is reminded of one of the items on his list that had sort of stumped him: ‘He looks at you in _that_ way.’ He thinks he kind of gets what they're saying now. Cause the way Steve is looking at Bucky is the way Bucky imagines an archeologist might look at his first uncovered priceless artefact. 

  
  


Bucky swallows loudly at the implications of that look.

  
  


‘You… have you been… gardening?’ Steve asks, and Bucky can’t help but notice that Steve licks his lips with the question (check yet another item off the list) which has Bucky unconsciously biting down on his own lip. 

  
  


‘Just pulling up these peppers for dinner,’ Bucky says, holding up the basket of vegetables that he’d just picked, ‘I haven’t had a chance to change since I got home from the shoot today.’ He looks down at his worn, threadbare old blue horticulture club t-shirt, covered in flour and with holes all along the wide neck, his work pants and steel capped boots that feel clunky and scruffy. ‘Sorry, I’m a bit of a mess.’

  
  


‘No, you look… it’s... ‘ Steve is struggling to find the words and Bucky feels a little vindicated that Steve is the speechless one for a change. Bucky raises an eyebrow at him and Steve is honest to god _blushing_. ‘It looks good on you.’

  
  


And as Bucky gets closer he realises he can also tick off, ‘His breathing gets heavy whenever he looks at you’, from the list. Steve can run ten miles without breaking a sweat, but here on the roof with Bucky his breathing is all over the place. 

  
  


It’s enough to calm Bucky's nerves, and (after a quick goodbye to the chickens) take Steve’s hand and lead him back down to the apartment, ‘Come on, big guy,' he says with a playful tug, 'I’ve gotta get these into the oven.’

  
  


By the time they make it back to the apartment Steve seems to have himself in check. He takes his jacket off and hangs it by the door, spotting the chaos on the kitchen counter.

  
  


‘What happened in here?’ He asks, chuckling and reaching over to dust a little of the flour off Bucky’s chest (making the whole thing worthwhile, as far as Bucky is concerned).

  
  


‘Everybody tells you how great cooking fresh pasta is, nobody tells you how horrible it is to clean up afterwards,’ Bucky says, shaking his head.

  
  


‘I can help!’ Steve says, looking way too pleased to be offering to do dishes.

  
  


‘No way,’ Bucky says, washing the peppers under running water before drying them and putting them on the oven tray he’d already lined with paper, ‘you’re a guest, you sit down and watch.’

  
  


‘Oh, I’m meant to just watch you?’ Steve asks, shit eating grin widening as he does, ‘I can do that.’

  
  


Now it’s Bucky’s turn to blush. 

  
  


He tries to go about clearing the mess while Steve takes a stool at the counter and tracks Bucky’s movements with his special brand of intense, baby-blue eyed stare. It’s as disconcerting as it is flattering.

  
  


‘What’s the occasion anyway?' Steve asks, leaning an elbow on the counter, 'You didn’t have to do all this just for me.' 

  
  


‘Oh, no occasion. I just wanted to see you,’ Bucky replies, gently gripping Steve's forearm to lift his elbow off the bench and swipe under it with the dish cloth, ‘I like seeing you.’

  
  


‘I like seeing you too, Buck,’ Steve says, glancing down at Bucky’s lips and then back to his eyes (ooh - check that off the list!). Though it's entirely possible he just has flour on his face and Steve isn’t sure how to let him know.

  
  


Actually Bucky now has dish water, flour _and_ garden soil on his clothes and decides it’s well past time he went to get changed into something more appropriate. He says as much to Steve, who looks him up and down as Bucky walks past him to get to the bedroom and then grabs at the hem of Bucky’s t-shirt. 

  
  


‘You don’t have to change for me,’ Steve says, drawing Bucky closer and into the space between Steve’s thighs, perched as he is on the stool. 

  
  


‘Oh yeah?’ Bucky asks, a little breathless, a little too whispered, ‘But I’m dirty.’

  
  


‘You could just take this off,’ Steve says, lifting the hem he still holds in his hands and sliding the t-shirt up to expose Bucky’s stomach. 

  
  


Not only are Steve’s pupils dilated (check!) but he also closes in on Bucky to mouth a line of open kisses up Bucky’s neck (neck kisses, check and check!) and Bucky is almost positive that Steve is onboard with the two of them having sex. But a traitorous little voice in the back of his head is making him feel like he’s lured Steve here nefariously. And that little voice, for some reason, carries weight.

  
  


‘Wait, Steve,’ Bucky pulls back a fraction from Steve’s teeth that have gently closed around his pulse point.

  
  


Steve let’s go immediately and pulls his own head back far enough to look Bucky in the eye, 'What's wrong?'

‘I um, I have to tell you something.’

  
  


‘Okay.’ Steve looks worried.

  
  


‘Or ask you something,' Bucky rushes to correct himself, 'Tell you that I wanted to ask you something.’

  
  


‘Okay,’ Steve pulls on the word, expression shifting from worried to confused.

  
  


‘I just. Tonight actually _was_ sort of a special occasion.’

  
  


‘It was?’ 

  
  


‘Only because I, well I wanted to find out if you were, if we were…’

  
  


‘Buck, it’s okay, whatever it is you can just ask me,’ Steve says, and he looks concerned enough that Bucky just blurts it out.

  
  


‘Do-you-wanna-have-sex?’

  
  


Steve’s eyebrows almost hit the roof.

  
  


‘Right now?’

  
  


‘No, or, _yes_ , I mean, I want that if you want that,’ Bucky says, ‘But also,’ because he hates the idea that he might be putting Steve on the spot, ‘It’s okay if you don’t, that wouldn’t be a deal breaker for me.’

  
  


‘A deal breaker?’ Steve asks. And god, Bucky forgets that Steve’s still working his way through Urban dictionary.

  
  


‘It’s not something I would break up with you over.’ Bucky clarifies.

  
  


‘It’s not something I would break up with you over either,’ Steve says softly, and the smile on his face is just as soft. ‘But I definitely do want to have sex with you.’

  
  


Bucky feels something tight inside him suddenly let go and he sighs into it, into Steve, whose legs he’s still standing between, whose chest he’s still leaning on. ‘Oh thank god.’

  
  


And Steve is chuckling low and delicious, shaking Bucky slightly with the up and down of his shoulders. ‘Is that what all this fancy food is about, Buck? You just want to get in my pants?’

  
  


Bucky blushes even further at the implication, and at being laughed at, though he would be laughing at himself too if he was on the other side of this. He hides his face in his hands and then buries it between Steve’s very impressive pecs. 

  
  


‘Hey, no,’ Steve says, leaning back and taking Bucky by the wrists, pulling his hands down from his face, ‘Don’t be like that, I think it’s fucking amazing that you did all this for me, Buck.’

  
  


‘Not just for you,’ Bucky says, looking up at Steve from under his lashes, ‘I’d be getting something out of it too.’

  
  


‘Mmm,’ Steve hums, pulling Bucky in, grasping both his wrists in one hand so he can use the other to lift Bucky’s chin, ‘Pretty sure I’m the lucky one here.’

  
  


He closes the distance, tilting his head just so, and kisses Bucky.

  
  


And Bucky kisses back. Opens his mouth to Steve and presses his tongue against Steve’s tongue, sucks Steve’s bottom lip and bites down on it gently. He climbs up into Steve’s lap and gets his hands up under Steve’s button down. 

  
  


‘How long does dinner have to be in the oven?’ Steve asks between kisses, getting his own hands further and further under Bucky’s shirt and up Bucky’s stomach.

  
  


‘Forty minutes,’ Bucky answers, as Steve finally gets his hands high enough to slip the t-shirt over Bucky’s head.

  
  


‘Oh god,’ Steve says, words tumbling out on a breath, his fingers trace down over Bucky’s shoulders, down his chest and over his abs then circle around his waist. ‘Okay, I can do forty minutes,’ he decides, and stands up from the stool, lifting Bucky with him and wrapping his arms around him, carrying him over to the bedroom. 

  
  


Steve drops him on the bed, and kneels down between Bucky’s legs. Bucky props himself up on his elbows so he doesn’t miss a minute of Steve’s face as flushed and hungry as it is.

  
  


‘What are the rules?’ he asks Bucky, letting his hands knead gently into the meat of Bucky’s thighs. The sensation is dulled by the weight of Bucky’s work pants, which he would very much like to be rid of.

‘Rules?’ Bucky asks (and there’s definitely a part of him that gets excited by the idea of Steve having rules)

‘It’s been a while since I did this - is there anything I need to know? Anything you like?’

‘I like you,’

‘Bucky’ he says, fondly exasperated.

  
  


‘I’d really like you to fuck me.’

And Steve’s eyes flash with a kind of heat Bucky hasn't seen yet. He finds it’s a heat he absolutely wants to see again.

'You wan't me to fuck you, Buck?' he says, the softness of his voice offset by the way his hands tighten on Buck's thighs. His thumbs are pressing hard enough to leave a bruise, and the image of that mark, the proof of Steve's wanting him like this, is enough to quicken Bucky's heartbeat.

He wants it - he wants it all.

'I've been dreaming about it for weeks, Steve.' And it’s all more than enough permission for Bucky to be honest. He sits up enough to lean forward and cover Steve's hands with his own, lift them off his thighs and pull Steve forwards and down on top of him. 'I want you inside me.'

Steve's eyes flash again and his grin is predatory. He follows Bucky's eyes as they flick to the condoms and lube that he'd left on the bedside table (he was being hopeful, in case the power of positivity turned out to be a real thing - which, hey, maybe it did?).

'Oh god, Bucky, I've been desperate to get my cock in you since you walked up to me at the premier that night.'

'You have?' Bucky's not sure if he's more shocked by the idea of Steve saying something so graphic, or the fact that he wanted Bucky like that right from the start. 

'So bad, Buck, _fuck_ , your ass in that suit.' Steve closes his eyes at the memory, then opens them and looks down at Bucky like he's precious, 'I wanted to stick my tongue in your hole and eat you for dinner.'

'Holy _shit_ , Steve.' And Bucky's already hard, but his dick is suddenly attempting to rip right through the seam of his pants.

'Is that... would you let me do that?'

Bucky can't quite find the words to answer, but he's nodding his head with so much enthusiasm it’s gonna shake something loose. 

'Buck, I'm gonna make you feel so good, I swear,' Steve is saying, and he's half pulling, half ripping at the buttons on Bucky's pants to get them open. Bucky can hear the material tearing, and under normal circumstances he might object (they're his second favourite work pants - they have pockets for days) but right now, he's onboard for anything that will get Steve's mouth on him sooner. 'These thighs, Buck, fucking _gorgeous_.'

Once they're open, his pants get thrown across the room, and Steve is nuzzling into Bucky's crotch, mouthing at him through the fabric of Bucky’s underwear. Bucky can't tell if the moaning is coming from Steve or himself, or both of them, and he doesn't particularly care. Before he can even ask for it Steve is sliding his underwear down over the obscene hardness of Bucky's erection, setting it free to slap back against his stomach. They both groan again and Bucky has to bite fiercely into his lip to stop the shout when Steve closes his mouth over Bucky’s cock and sucks. Bucky throws his head back and arches his back up off the bedspread, so he misses the visual of Steve pulling off and spreading Bucky's thighs apart, pushing them out and up with the palms of his hands, almost folding Bucky in half (next time. He’ll remember to catch it next time).

When Steve gets his tongue on the rim of Bucky's asshole it's gentle, teasing. Just a hint of pressure, wet and warm, that sets a fire under Bucky's skin, the nerves there are so close to the surface. Sounds beyond Bucky’s control are escaping from his bitten lips as Steve's tongue gets closer and closer to being inside him, circling his hole, driving him crazy.

He can hear Steve's deep, vibrating groans - the kinds of sounds he was hoping to get Steve making from the food at dinner- but Bucky will take it like this (jesus, _fuck_ will he take it like this). He wants to keep these sounds safe somewhere to be unpacked later. To be studied and cherished. To touch himself to, when he needs to be reminded that he's wanted. 

And he can tell, as the pressure of Steve's tongue intensifies, as the rhythm becomes erratic, that Steve is letting himself get carried on the same wave that Bucky is riding. He's fucking Bucky with his tongue now, opening him up, slick and stretched, using lubed up fingers to get him ready. Bucky reaches down to touch himself, relieve some of the tight pain of being so unbelievably hard, but Steve stops him, letting go of Bucky's thighs to grab Bucky’s hands and press them into Bucky’s stomach, transferring them into one of Steve’s bigger, stronger hands to free the other to push back against Bucky's thigh and keep his legs spread wide, all in one efficient, graceful motion. 

It surprises Bucky enough that he cries out and Steve pulls away so fast, is up and on Bucky so swiftly, it's almost too fast for Bucky to see. It’s the first time Bucky’s ever really been aware of Steve having more than normal human reflexes. 

It's so fucking _hot._

'You okay?' he asks Bucky, 'Was that too much? Too hard.'

Bucky shakes his head immediately, not wanting Steve to think he's done anything wrong. 'No it was good,' Bucky breathes, reaching up to Steve, closing the distance between them and pressing his lips to Steve's, 'It was _hot_ Steve.' He says between kisses. 'You can do it again.'

Steve opens his mouth into the kiss and Bucky can taste himself there. Which shouldn't be affecting Bucky like it is, and it’s filthy how much Bucky’s trying to chase it on Steve’s tongue.

'You like that?' Steve asks, and Bucky isn't sure if he means the kissing or the manhandling, but seeing as both apply he just nods in the affirmative. 'You want me to hold you down some, baby?' and holy fuck, does Bucky's brain start melting at the way Steve says _baby_. 

He doesn't even know _why_ he likes that. Just that he really _really_ does. 

'You like it a little bit rough, huh?' Steve asks. And Bucky didn't know that he did, except that the idea of Steve's hands holding him down while Steve fucks into him has Bucky’s heart trying to beat out of his chest and _oh god yes_ , he wants it. 

He's gone so melty that he's speechless, so he just nods again, making breathy little noises as Steve takes Bucky's hands and pushes them down into the mattress to either side of his head. 

'You want me to fuck you like this, Buck?'

'Please,' Bucky whispers. And is rewarded with another flash of heat as Steve's pupils dilate almost black. 

Bucky really needs to send a nice letter to the writers of that article.

‘Jesus, you’re so fucking perfect,’ Steve says, letting go and lifting himself off Bucky just long enough to get his own pants and underwear off. 

Steve is big, but he’s not huge. His cock’s not as frightening as some of the thirstier tweeters had been speculating. It’s just as pretty as they said it might be though, Bucky has to give them that. He’s going to be feeling it for a few days. 

‘Shirt too,’ Bucky says as Steve leans back down, and Steve smiles with so much affection, Bucky feels his chest tighten. Like there’s not enough space in there for all of _this_ (all of what he’s feeling in this moment). 

But Bucky is pretty quickly distracted by the sight of Steve unbuttoning his shirt and slipping it off his shoulders. Christ alive. Steve is so gorgeous. 

Bucky's a bit stunned by it, truth be told, and though he wants to track it and touch, run his hands along the crazy definition of Steve’s muscles, down the trail of hair that leads through the most deliciously chiselled hip bones Bucky’s ever seen, Steve's hands are back on him and he's threaded their fingers together, holding Bucky down.

‘You ready for me, Buck?’ Steve asks, his face a fraction of an inch from Bucky’s, their noses almost touching. 

Bucky reaches up as much as he can against Steve’s hold on him to press their foreheads together, closes his eyes and just breathes ‘I’m ready.’

And then Steve is lining himself up at Bucky’s hole, circling it slowly with the tip of his cock, teasing it just as his tongue had earlier, and slowly, slowly he starts to push through the resistance of Bucky’s muscle, Bucky trying to bear down as much as he can and let Steve in. And the pull against his nerves is the perfect kind of pain, Steve sliding through the lube and the spit until he’s buried deeper in Bucky than he thinks he’s ever had anyone inside him before. 

‘Okay baby,’ is all the warning Bucky gets before Steve pulls almost all the way out and then slams his cock home, deeper again. 

‘Fu-uuck,’ Bucky says on the exhale, the breath punched out of him. And he would move but he can’t, Steve is holding him down so tight, he can’t roll with the thrusts, he just has to take it. And god, he doesn’t know why he _loves_ that so much. 

Whatever Bucky’s doing with his mouth or the sounds he’s making is cataloging to Steve exactly how good he’s feeling, which has Steve pulling out and slamming in again, again and again, getting faster, changing the angle slightly and brushing past something inside Bucky that sends shock waves through him. 

‘Yeah, there,’ he says, barely a whisper, but Steve hears it, drives faster and harder along that spot until Bucky can barely breathe, is desperate to be touched, but Steve’s hands are otherwise occupied. And Bucky just arches up into it, does as much as his body is capable of, restrained as it is, to rock against Steve, move with the thrusts, clench around Steve’s cock and set him going faster and harder still. And the pressure is building up low and hot in Bucky’s body, building and tightening with nowhere to go but to crash down around him, and suddenly he’s coming, wave after wave painting across Steve’s chest, landing on his own chin. And Steve cries out and follows him down, Bucky feels the condom filling up inside him and then Steve is pulling out and leaving Bucky empty.

Steve lets go of his hands and brings Bucky’s fingers up to his mouth to kiss them softly. Bucky hardly has time to smile at the gesture before he hears the oven timer screeching at them and jumps up off the bed.

‘The peppers!’ he says frantically, leaving a gorgeously confused looking Steve on the bed as he runs clumsily out to the kitchen, stubbing his toe on the stool as he passes (not swearing, but _ouch_ , fucking _stool leg_ came out of nowhere) and skidding into the kitchen to shut the oven off and open the door.

The peppers are sitting on the tray, charred and blackened exactly as they should be for him to puree and turn into a sauce. 

‘Oh, thank god.’

‘Bucky? Everything okay?’ Steve calls, he’s following Bucky out to the kitchen, wrapped in his open shirt and pulling pants up over his still prominent erection (no time for underwear in a possible emergency).

‘Yep, perfect,’ Bucky says. And then takes stock of the situation; he’s standing in his kitchen, naked, come on his chin, holding a hot tray of roasted red peppers, with a powerpuff girls oven mit. ‘Umm, I should maybe take a quick shower before I make the sauce.’

‘Oh my god, Bucky,’ Steve is shaking with the force of trying _not_ to laugh at Bucky, ‘You ran so fast out of there, you scared the shit out of me.’

‘The timer went off…’ Bucky says. And he was certainly not going to waste his organic, homegrown vegetables to the mercy of too long in a hot oven. 

‘Is dinner okay?’

‘It’s nearly done, I can leave these to cool down while we take a shower and then I’ll make the sauce and cook the pasta.’

Steve is looking at him with ever more fond exasperation, picking up the fallen stool as he passes and rounding the counter to stand beside Bucky. He takes the tray -

‘Careful that’s hot!’

Laughing at Bucky and placing it gently on the cutting board before dragging Bucky in and wrapping his arms around him. ‘Shower sounds like a great idea, Buck.’

‘Good, come on then,’ Bucky says, smiling like an idiot and prying himself free from Steve’s arms to lead him through to the bathroom and get the water going. 

It hasn’t escaped his notice that Steve doesn’t seem to have a refractory period, and there’s probably enough time for him to do something about that before he needs to get onto the sauce. 

Bucky is going to need to work on his endurance if he’s going to be dating a supersoldier. And he is _more_ than willing to accept that challenge. While Steve soaps him up and starts massaging those long, strong fingers into the muscles of Bucky’s back, Bucky lets his head fall back on Steve’s shoulder.

‘We should talk about these rules of yours over dinner I think, Stevie,’ he says quietly, smiling at the way Steve tightens his hold on him, ‘Maybe run through some possible _scenarios_.’

‘How did I get so fucking lucky,’ Steve says, kissing Bucky on the temple and digging his fingers into his back.

Bucky is wondering the same thing in reverse. 

And he’s definitely intending to send the writers of that article a _very_ nice thank you letter. Maybe even a fruit basket. 

Matter of fact, he has some lovely strawberries coming through, up on the roof in the hydroponics shed...

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave me a comment - It makes me so happy to read them ❤
> 
> Come find me, I'm **[darter-blue](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/darter-blue)** on tumblr
> 
> Or 
> 
> Come chat on twitter:[@beclouise13](https://twitter.com/beclouise13)


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